


Hallelujah

by Beyond_the_barrier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Abandonment, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Bad Parent John Winchester, Blood Loss, Caution, Child Abuse, Dean Cooking, Dean singing, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Drunk Dean, Drunk fighting, Fluff, Hallelujah Destiel, Happily Ever After, High School, Homophobia, Hospitals, Implied Sexual Content, Implied homophobia, Lost Time, M/M, Medication, Middle School, Morning After, Moving On, OC, Pills, Possibly Triggering, Prescription medicine, Reading, Recovery, Run Away, Self-Harm, Singing, Sleeping Together, Speeding, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, anxiety attack, book lover Castiel, er - Freeform, graphic depictions of self harm, ish, leftover messages, major anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-08
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-13 02:17:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7134572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beyond_the_barrier/pseuds/Beyond_the_barrier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the most part, Cas was alone. Until he met Dean. Not that things got better for that long. But Dean was holding onto him, even if he didn't know it yet. Besides, how could things get any worse?<br/>Hallelujah.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own any of the character depicted in this fanfiction.  
> I do not own any of the books mentioned in this fanfiction, though I do highly recommend yall read them.  
> I do not own the song that is/will be sung/mentioned in this fanfiction.  
> The version that inspired me is Jeff Buckley's version.

 

_I wasn’t sure when it all started exactly. But I do remember hearing it when I was very little._

 

Castiel wasn't always alone. No. He vaguely remembers having someone else in his life, but he couldn't place it. Now he spends most of his time alone. Reading, drawing, and sometimes photographing, only since he got a phone in seventh grade. Though he much preferred having a real camera. Any kind, he didn't care.

His parents always told him he couldn't have one. He couldn't have anything according to them. They always told him that he'd be wasting all the photos, and he'd never be successful in it anyway, so why bother? Cas had learned quickly to accept the first answer they gave. If he didn't, he'd be grounded all weekend with no food and constant put-downs. Food was necessary. Became even more necessary the closer he got to becoming a teenager.

His parents gave enough money to buy lunch for the week, every week. Cas knew that he'd never survive eating three meals a week, so he couldn't put the money aside. But he had a box, and whenever he got change, he'd add to the box. Then the money would go towards a new book. He read his books so fast that he always needed something new. He read the entire school library by the end of seventh grade and wanted a copy of some of them for himself. The librarian, Ellen Harvelle, sometimes put aside some change for him so he could buy books. She was also kind enough to let him borrow some of her own personal books she brought from home. When she knew it was his birthday, or Christmas came around, she'd even let Cas keep the copy.

Castiel enjoyed reading, obviously, it sucked him into a different world. Away from his terrible parents, away from all the kids who sometimes make fun of him, and away from school. He cared about his grades, only because if he didn't, he'd never get anywhere in life. But apart from that, Castiel excelled in all his art classes and only wished to take more in different forms.

He was starting eighth grade now. His last year in middle school and he was just hoping the year would run by quickly. All he wanted now was to get to high school. Not just because the teachers didn't treat you like children, but the honors and advanced placement classes that would (hopefully) give harder reading assignments. Throughout the year, every new book assigned was one he'd already read, at least twice and he knew the story by heart. It was starting to drive him crazy.

But this year something was different. His walk to school started off with a stomach ache, and he couldn't figure out why. He ate dinner, nothing unusual, and his parents left yesterday afternoon for a business trip. It was his first day, but he never felt this before, and he wasn't sure what it meant.

He walked into the library first thing, ten minutes until the bell rang.

“Castiel!” Ellen called, getting up to give Cas a hug.

“Hello.” Hugging back.

“How was your summer?” Ellen asked, walking back behind the desk when they separated.

“It was alright, thank you. How was yours?”

Ellen sighed. “Oh, Jo is as rebellious as ever. She's in seventh grade but she's reaching those teenage rebel years already.”

“Sounds tough.” Cas sat on the empty side of the desk/counter.

“It is. But she's still my daughter.” Ellen smiled. “Would you like your next book?”

Cas smiled back, “I would yes please.”

Ellen handed him '1984' by George Orwell. “I think you'll appreciate this one.”

Cas slid off the counter with the book in his hand. “Thank you Ellen. I'll get this back to you when I'm done.” He started to walk away before Ellen called him back.

“Are you alright, honey?” She asked.

“I'm alright, yes. I think I just have a stomach bug or something. I will be fine.” Cas assured.

Ellen nodded and let him be on his way. The bell rang just as he entered the hallway to his class. He was the first one there, the teacher gave him a smile and he sat by himself at a table in the back. It was typical classroom, only difference was this one had posters about science and biology around it. Castiel sat back with his stuff on the desk and opened the book.

He vaguely heard other kids shuffle inside and sit down before the second bell rang. The teacher hadn't started talking yet, patiently waiting for everyone to sit down. When the bell rang he felt the wind of another kid as they sat next to him. Cas didn't bother looking up.

“Hey, I'm Dean.” The boy said.

Castiel processed the fact that someone just chose to sit next to him on the first day of school, before he replied with, “Castiel.” a few moments later.

“Isn't that some angel's name?” The boy- or Dean, asked. “My mother used to take me and my little brother to church when we could.”

Castiel just nodded in reply, trying to focus on his reading. The words becoming blurred as he drifted in and out of focus.

“What are you reading?” Dean asked, more questions.

“1984. George Orwell.” He answered.

“Huh. Haven't read it myself, by I've heard good things about it.” Dean continued.

Castiel nodded again, not entirely sure if that was a proper response.

“Don't talk too much do ya Castiel?” Cas could hear a smile in his voice. “That's okay. I do a lot of talking anyway. Could I call you Cas?”

Castiel shut the book with slight frustration and finally looked up at Dean. His blue eyes met greens ones. No. Not green. Not exactly. They were.... rolling hills in the peak of summer, with the golden hour illuminating the brightness of the green, of each individual piece of grass. Cas stared into Dean's eyes as Dean stared into his. He wasn't sure why Dean was staring, but he was.

They only broke eye contact when the teacher loudly told everyone to pay attention. Castiel couldn't stop thinking about Dean's eyes for the rest of class. When the bell rang for break, he grabbed his book and left the room. A moment later a hand landed on his shoulder.

“Hey,” It was Dean. “Do you have any friends here?” Dean stared into his eyes again.

“Uh..” Castiel blinked and looked away. “No.. I mostly just read on one of the benches outside..”

“Mind if I join you?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked back up at him for a second. “Uh.. Sure. I guess.”

“I'm new here, sorta. And I don't have any friends either.” Dean told him with some embarrassment in his posture.

“That's fine. Do you read? Or draw?” Castiel asked as they walked down the hall together.

“Both. Though, I don't have much to read and I don't draw a whole lot.”

Cas smiled a little. “That's okay. I've got some books with me. You can read one of mine.”

Dean smiled, it was a nice smile. It made Cas feel happy too. “Awesome. Thanks Cas.”

Castiel smiled, Dean made him happy. Despite just meeting the guy, he felt like he was close to Dean. That he could trust him.

Dean and Castiel spent as much time as they could together. They had a few matching classes, and during most of them, they whispered to each other. During breaks and lunches, they talked. They shared their views on the school, other students, the classes, the teachers, anything either of them could bring up. They got to know each other pretty well by the time they were halfway through the year. Cas almost started fearing that they'd run out of things to talk about. But he set the fear aside. Dean never spoke about his family, other than the mention of a brother and a mother, and Castiel never asked. He didn't talk about his family either. It was a fair trade, he supposed.

They had just a couple months of eighth grade left when Cas had that same stomach clenching feeling. Only it was worse this time. It went all the way to his head and he got a bit dizzy. But he pushed it aside, assuming it was just him getting sick. Nothing to worry about. He stopped by the library to return Ellen's book, and she gave him another to read. This time it was 'Nineteen Minutes' by Jodi Picoult. She warned him that it may be a little more mature than he's had before, but he assured her once again that he was okay with it. It was more of a reminder that if someone from the school found out what kind of books Ellen was lending him, she might get in a lot of trouble.

Castiel entered his first class when the bell rang and made himself comfortable at the back desk. He tried to read, but his stomach was killing him and his brain wasn't letting him focus on the words. Something was wrong and he couldn't figure out what.

The second bell rang and it was obvious that Dean was gonna be late. They spent the first fifteen minutes going over homework before the teacher passed out a worksheet to work on. Castiel tried to focus more on drawing than anything else. He hid the sketchbook under the papers and focused on drawing something he could see. Something his eyes might be able to clearly show.

When he felt the air next to him of a kid sitting down, he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Castiel tried to calm himself, softly working on the shading of his drawing.

“What did I miss?” The familiar voice of Dean reached his ears.

“Homework corrections.” Cas answered. “I'm not entirely sure what we're doing now.”

“That's okay. I'll catch up.” He felt Dean lean over more to Cas's side. “And what are you working on instead slacker?”

Cas laughed a bit. “Um.. I'm not.. really sure.” Cas looked back on it. “A demon?” He looked at Dean.

Dean was smiling a bit, but Cas's eyes focused on the bruise he had on his jaw. “Dean? What the hell happened?” Cas's smile shrunk immediately into worry.

Dean sighed. “I just fell. I'll be fine.”

Cas reached a hand up and rubbed a finger along the bruise before Dean pushed his hand away.”I'll be fine Cas,” He assured. “It'll heal. It's just a bruise. It'll go away.”

Cas looked worriedly at him as he began to scribble answers on the worksheet they were suppose to be working on. Whatever he felt this morning was warning him. Something was wrong. He didn't know what it was, but it had something to do with Dean. That only worried him more. And it only felt like things were going to get worse. Cas wasn't sure if he was prepared to deal with anything worse than he already had.

 

_I wanted to trust Dean. But something told me that he was covering something. I didn't know what. And I don't know how to help. But something is coming and it's only going to get worse from here._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two**

 

_Hallelujah..._

 

School ended pretty quickly after that. Summer came and Dean dragged Cas out as much as he could. They'd meet up at the park that was between their houses. They lived pretty far from each other, but a neighborhood in between them had a small park.

They'd sit in the old swings or the rotting benches until they decided to walk around. They hung out by the creek and in the forest. Usually just listening to music, and talking, but sometimes they'd sit in silence and read or draw. It was calming.

It was... nice. Castiel found it relaxing to sit down with someone and not have to talk or entertain. It was also weird though. He's never had a relationship like this before.. at least none that he could remember. Every time he realized they both stopped talking and were just reading, he smiled. He couldn't help it. Cas loved it.

Sometimes they'd visit each other's houses. Dean made sure his dad was never home when he dragged Cas over, and Cas made sure his parents weren't home when Dean insisted that he had to be over there. It wasn't much different than outside. They sat on couches or beds and read or drew. They'd occasionally put on a movie or show and eat food or discuss how unrealistic the movie is compared to real life. Castiel enjoyed watching Dean criticize the physics of action movies, and Dean enjoyed watching Cas criticize the lack of diversity in them.

By the end of the summer, Cas realized he likes Dean. Not the kind of like that you'd want to be friends and brothers with. But that kind of like that made Cas want to hold Dean's hand and make out with him on the couch. It hit him hard when he caught himself staring at Dean as he read. His face probably turned bright red in that moment, and he hid it behind his book. It happened often now. When Dean smiled at him, that kind of smile that was true and showed a little bit of teeth, and whenever he caught himself staring again. Cas couldn't stop himself. Dean was beautiful. He wanted to stare at him all day.

School started up again, almost sooner than Cas would've liked. He and Dean had a few of the same classes, and he was thankful Dean was also in his art class. Castiel didn't want to deal with being alone or having to meet someone knew in class. So he stuck with Dean as much as he could. And felt lonely when they had to separate for some classes.

When Cas started high school, his parents got tougher on him. Worse. They barraged him with questions and forced ideas about what to do when he finished. Even he wasn't really sure, he was mostly just hoping he'd live long enough to turn eighteen and move out. The older he got, the more scared he got about what his parents might do. They continued to verbally beat him down, and consistently told him he wasn't good enough. It made him feel like shit. His own parents of all people? Castiel couldn't help but to believe them most of the time. They were, after all, his parents. They might not be there, at home, all the time. But every time they were, they'd put him down until he'd start hurting himself. Then they'd put on paper masks and give Cas more money to spend on what ever he wanted. Castiel decided they were imperfect imposters.

Lately, Dean was the only thing that could make him feel better. Over the summer, Dean bought him a little plush angel that he could connect onto his backpack. Dean told him he chose an angel because most of Cas's drawings were demons, and angels were lighter. Something that could make him feel better and in the light, rather than in the darkness. Cas would hold the angel to his chest every night he cried himself to sleep. And every time his parents put him down further than before.

He ignored most of his home life, and focused on his school work. Not to mention Dean as well. Actually.. he mostly focused on Dean. Cas had a picture of him on his phone, and sometimes, when he wasn't with Dean, he'd look at the picture. By look, Cas knew it was stare.

But upon entering high school, things only got worse. For both of them. Cas knew when Dean came to school late one morning during autumn. Usually it was just a bruise that Dean had. Coming to school or meeting up with Cas, he'd sometimes have a bruise on his face with no answer. This time was worse.

Dean sat next to him with a bruise on his lower jaw, another around his other eye, and a stitched up cut that was scarring just above his eye.

“Jesus.. Dean what happened?” Cas asked when Dean sat down. He'd asked this question every time, but he never got a real answer.

Dean shrugged, “Nothin. I fell. Learning some tricks, and I fell.”

Cas sighed. “Dean..”

“Cas.” They looked at each other. “I'm fine. They'll go away.” Dean started writing on the paper they were suppose to be working on. Cas noticed some bruising around his knuckles as well.

Cas reached over with one hand and rubbed his thumb over Dean's bruises. “Dean. We need to talk about this.”

“No we don't Cas.” Dean looked back up at him. “I'm fine.”

Cas whispered this time so no one would hear. “Dean these bruises don't get there by falling.” Referencing the ones on his knuckles.

Dean sighed. “I don't want to talk about it..”

Cas stared at him, eyeing the brownish-yellow bruises around his face, and paying careful attention to the four stitches he had holding a wound together. “I want you to..” His thumb rubbed over the bruises on his hand again. “How about this?” Dean looked up. “I don't talk either. So if I talk, you talk too.”

Dean nodded. “Fine.”

Cas took his hand back and started to weakly work on the paper. Thinking more about what was to come next.

The day passed by, and when the bell rang for the end of school, Cas's stomach dropped. What would Dean say? About his parents? About the truth? What would he do? What could he do? What if... What if he leaves? What if this is the last conversation they'll ever have?...

Dean and Cas slowly walked to the end of town and up a hill. Sitting on a small deck that was near the top. It was public property, it was meant to be a picnic spot, but something happened and the road wasn't officially paved to get to there. Now a lot of teens go up to hang out. Usually doing drugs, or going up there as couples and making out. Or doing more than making out.

Castiel sat criss-crossed as Dean sat with his legs hanging over the edge. They remained in silence, just looking down at the town. This time it wasn't one of those calming silences Cas liked. But an awkward one. One of them had to start, neither of them wanted to, but they both knew it wasn't getting them anywhere if they stayed silent.

But they still did. Sundown came, and Cas was thankful it was Friday. His parents left earlier in the afternoon, and they won't be back until Monday. He could stay out all night and they wouldn't care or notice.

Cas sighed. “I...” He tried to begin. “I think I'm depressed...” He finally got out. “My parents.. bully me. They put me down.. force thoughts into my head.. then think they can get away with it.. by giving me money when they know I'm upset.. assuming that... nothing will happen if they... keep giving me.. things... that I'll just... forget everything they said.. When... I can't ever stop thinking about it. And most the time think that they're right..” He looks at Dean as his eyes start to water. “I am a loser. I'm not going to get anywhere in life and I only ever cause mayhem. I'm just a waste. I should just-” Dean presses a thumb to his lips, getting him to stop. Wiping tears with his other hand.

“Cas..” Dean releases his lips and holds his face. “It's not true. Any of it. You're an artist. Magnificent. You may only draw demons, but you're still an artist.” Dean now sat with on leg over the edge, facing Cas, as Cas faced him. “You're going to get far in life. I'll make sure of it.” He smiles. “Don't ever think that way. You are amazing.” Cas cried into Deans hand, until Dean pulled Cas's head to his chest.

Dean held him for awhile. When Cas stopped crying so much, he sat up and wiped his face with his sleeves. “What about you?..” Cas asked. “It's your turn..”

Dean sighed. “My.. brother... is with my uncle Bobby. His name's Sam. I sent him away several years ago. After our... mother died. I did it... because our dad, John.. started drinking.. excessively.. He's an alcoholic.. When he drinks he gets angry... When you mention Sammy.. or our mother... he gets angry... But usually.. he's just angry at life... and if you try to step in his way... whether you're actually trying to help... or because you walked into the wrong room at the wrong time... He'll... get angry...” Dean was looking down, fiddling with his fingers. “I only stayed... because he'd become homeless without... having a child under his care... We're barely getting by... I'm waiting until I can get a well enough paying job.. So I can help out.. or get him help... and I can still survive on my own... “

Cas stared at him, Dean still looked down. Before Cas could say anything, Dean talked again. “It surprises me... you still want to be friends. I've moved around a lot before coming here. No one before you really even wanted to come near me. Why did you... why did you let me stay?”

Dean met Cas's eyes. “I don't really know. I was actually angry with you at first. I was trying to read and you kept talking.” he laughed a little. “But when I looked up at you.. something changed..”

Dean smiled a little, a little half smile. “I'd have to say the same thing. At first.. I thought that school was going to be like every other one I'd been to. But when I saw you sitting there.. reading.. something changed. I had hope...” Dean smiled more, and Cas smiled back. “I don't want to lose you Cas..”

“I'm not going anywhere..” Cas responded. “May I.. admit something else?..”

Dean nodded. “Shoot.”

Cas's stomach dropped again. A shudder crept up his spine and the anxiety went down to his knees. “I.. think... I...” Cas looked down. “I think.. I... that I..”

Dean put a thumb to his lips again, holding his head with both hands. “I think I know.” Cas looked at him. He smiled and leaned his head in against Cas's. Cas closed his eyes and hoped. A moment later, soft lips met his, and he immediately leaned into it. Dean's hand dug into Cas's hair and Cas's hands found Deans shirt, gripping it tightly. He savored the feel of Dean's lips on his.

His hands crept to Dean's waist and he wrapped one arm around him. The other hand gripped Dean's shirt, and pulled him down until Cas was on his back. Dean held himself up with one arm over Cas, his other hand ghosted over Cas's face.

Dean pulled away and trailed kisses down Cas's neck. Cas kept his eyes closed, and let his hands wander to Dean's hair. He dug his fingers into Dean's hair, gripping them, pulling Dean back up to his own lips. He could feel the smirk as he kissed him again. Cas found Dean's free hand and tangled their fingers together, before breaking apart.

Cas smiled, and looked into Dean's eyes. Finding towering trees that clashed with open fields under a star spangled sky.

“How about we head home?” Dean's gruff voice suggested.

“Who's?” Cas asked as Dean leaned in close enough that their noses touched.

“We're closer to yours.” Dean rested his forehead against Cas's. He felt Dean's leg in between his own, holding him up.

“Parents won't be home until Monday.”

“Perfect.” Dean smirked against Cas.

Dean pulled Cas up and they walked quickly to Cas's house. While Cas took a moment to open the door, he felt Dean's eyes scroll over his body. It made his hands shake a bit, and his face felt hot. They got in and dropped their stuff on the floor by the door. Cas grabbed Dean's hand and led him up to his own room. He dropped on the bed, Dean falling over him, landing right next to him on his side. Cas turned onto his side, facing Dean. Staring at him. Staring at his ruffled hair, and beautifully swirled green eyes.

“Can I sing something for you?” Dean whispered.

Cas smiled, his heart fluttered in excitement for hearing Dean sing. “Absolutely.”

Dean smiled, and leapt off the bed. He grabbed an old guitar Cas forgot he had, and began to strum as he turned back around. He sat on Cas's desk chair, watching as Cas lay on his side on the bed.

“Whenever you have a bad day..” Dean told him. “Just think of me. And think of this song. This will be our song.” Dean smiled and started to sing,

_“_ _Well, I heard there was a secret chord_ __  
_That David played and it pleased the Lord_ __  
_But you don't really care for music, do you?_ __  
_Well it goes like this:_ __  
_The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift_ __  
_The baffled king composing Hallelujah_ __  
  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ __  
  
_Well your faith was strong but you needed proof_ __  
_You saw her bathing on the roof_ __  
_Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya_ __  
_She tied you to her kitchen chair_ __  
_She broke your throne and she cut your hair_ __  
_And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_ __  
  
_Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...”_

 

_Hallelujah...._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 

_Nothing could ruin this moment._

 

Cas unknowingly missed a lot of details. His eyes passed over the small things, and his mind blurred out what it considered irrelevant. But now, he noticed everything. When he woke up in bed, he looked at the neat pile of books in the corner, and eyed the slightly open closet, that only revealed a tan coat. A trench coat, he remembered.

 

Dean pulled Cas closer to him. Both his arms wrapped around the other man's waist. He breathed him in, like he was the only thing that was evenly remotely important to him. Cas tangled their fingers together.

Green eyes looked around the room more. They missed a lot the first times he was here. He looked at the pile of books in the corner, and smiled. Wondering if Cas ever opened the books Dean read. He imagined Cas sitting on the floor, staring at his collection, trying to decide which to give Dean next. Carefully sliding the book from the pile and familiarizing himself with the storyline before packing it. The guitar leaned against Cas's nightstand, just where Dean set it down the night before. It was a small room, not that Dean's own was much bigger. But it seemed small with the morning sunlight shining through the curtains. Cas had a stack of sketchbooks on his desk, accompanied with more books, a lamp, and the angel Dean bought him last summer.

Cas turned over to face Dean, and Dean laughed softly at the state of Cas's hair. Dean's fingers ruffled it even more. Cas only groaned and closed his eyes, nuzzling against Dean's neck.

“What time is it?..” Cas mumbled.

Dean eyed Cas's clock he hung above the closet. “11:00.. ish..”

“We should get up.” Cas groaned, weakly pulling away from Dean.

Dean held him tighter and closer, groaning in disagreement. Cas weakly objected, to no avail. “Dean.. we should get up... It's only Saturday.”

Cas pushed away only slightly and looked at Dean. Green eyes stared into blue ones. Dean would never describe Cas's eyes as just blue though. They were vast oceans beneath midnight stars, or enchanted rivers flowing through snowy nights. It rained on sunny days in Cas's eyes. Dean never wanted to look away.

“How about breakfast?” Cas suggested. “I think I've got pancake mix and bacon.” Smiling.

Dean smiled and kissed his nose. “Deal.”

Cas rested his forehead against Dean's for a moment, before leaving with a kiss to his nose. Dean watched Cas dress into loose jeans, and a long sleeve sweatshirt, before heading downstairs to the kitchen. Dean stayed on Cas's bed, trying to just wake up a bit. He slept in yesterday's clothes, and when he got up, only decided to strip the flannel. He walked downstairs with some well fit jeans and a t-shirt. Spotting Cas making pancakes, he snaked his arms around Cas's waist. Kissing him on the cheek, and holding him.

“Good morning.” Cas said as he flipped the pancakes.

“I can already smell the bacon.” Dean responded, letting go of him and checking on the cooking bacon.

Cas laughed a bit. “Of course you do.” He stacked the last pancake on one plate, and grabbed a smaller one for the bacon.

Dean finished off the bacon, and piled it onto the small plate. They sat down on the couch with some random movie that was on, and ate breakfast. Occasionally they fed each other pieces of pancake or bacon until there was nothing left. Then they laid on the couch next to each other, watching the movie.

Dean slid his arms around Cas's waist, and kissed his neck, to his ear, to his cheek. Until Cas turned around towards Dean, and pulled him into a kiss. Dean bit at Cas's lower lip, and his hand found their way to the hem of Cas's sweatshirt. Snaking it's way under Cas's shirt and softly running over his back. His fingers ghosting over the spine and settling on his waist, as Cas shuddered at the contact.

Cas's hands followed, sliding under Dean's shirt and running around his chest. Ghosting over Dean's nibbles, and scratching at his back as Dean pulled at his hair. Dean's tongue slid along Cas's lip, asking for entrance. Cas obliged and their tongues collided, exploring each other's mouths.

Until they needed a moment to breath, and Dean rested his head against Cas's. Smiling with his face turning red, mimicking Cas's blush. With laced fingers, things couldn't be going better.

 

The rest of the year Dean made it to school on time, maybe not by teacher rules, but he was at least in class when the bell rang. Dean didn't come to school as much with bruises marking his face. Cas was happy about that, it either meant Dean stopped antagonizing his father, or he just made sure to keep his distance. Which ever it was, Cas was happy that Dean wasn't getting hurt as much. He was also happy that he wasn't hurting himself as much. The scars healed over enough it didn't make Cas as self-conscious as it used to.

Summer came once again, and their schedule didn't change much from last year's summer. The only difference was Dean. They'd been together for awhile when Cas received an old Polaroid camera. Dean said it used to be his mother's, and his dad had it in the corner of their room. Cas got film, and enjoyed having a real camera in his hands. Most of his photos were of Dean. He wanted every moment in a picture, so he'd never forget. He never wanted to forget this. This thing he has with Dean. Their relationship is the best thing that could've happened.

Sophmore year went by like it was nothing. Their relationship never failing for a moment. They hung out at the back of the school, holding hands, reading or drawing. Cas anxiously waited to turn eighteen. There was so much he wanted to do, wanted to figure out. But he had no control without a parental consent. He'd been talking with the school psychiatrist from the beginning of Sophmore year, and even she said that there wasn't much he could do without his parents knowing. He was limited until he turned eighteen.

Dean made sure to make him forget about it all every time they were together. Stealing Cas's camera to take a photo of Cas for himself. Cas knew Dean was still struggling with his father. The times he did show up with a new bruise, it tended to be purple, meaning it was a strong punch, and Dean would tell him that he was trying to convince his dad to go to rehab. It never worked.

Cas's parents on the other hand, were at home less and less. Often times not leaving any money or food in the house for him. Making Cas have to buy his own food, or mooch off Dean. He didn't mind though. It gave him a reason to bug Dean on the weekends, and more of a reason to go over to Dean's or for him to come over to Cas's.

Junior year came and with it came Dean with a driver's license. He drove his impala to and from school every day. Cas sometimes got rides, but much preferred to walk. He was only twenty minutes away, where as Dean was almost forty-five. But Cas loved it when winter came, and it gave him more of a reason to hitch a ride with Dean. It rained, it snowed. Sometimes they got there early, and would make out in the car until they had to leave.

The whole school knew they were a thing. Not that they didn't exactly do much to hide it, but people didn't care either. It was inevitable from the start, and everyone knew. Plus, Dean convinced Cas that they shouldn't try and hide it, said that he'd beat the shit out of anyone who talked trash or gave them a hard time. Some of the girls Cas worked with in class always told him he was lucky to have someone like Dean. They practically fainted over Dean. But Cas didn't worry, he knew Dean only had eyes for him.

Dean was also a bit of a player though. Sometimes winking or smirking at the girls who would on cue shriek. Sometimes it was quiet, but usually not. It only made him laugh, and all the girls knew he was taken. They didn't try anything, they just liked to admire. Cas would then usually tangle their fingers together and make sure everyone knew Dean was his. It made him braver, holding Dean's hand. Knowing that he was there for him, that he wouldn't leave. He understood Cas more than Cas understood himself. Every time, Cas could sneak out or text Dean at obscene hours of the morning and he would be there. Ready to hold Cas if he needed it, or to tell Cas that everything is going to be okay. It didn't matter. Dean would do everything in his power, go through his head like a rocket, until he could find some way to understand what was going through Cas's head.

Dean always told Cas that he was an angel. He had wings that were begging to be used. Everything in him is just waiting until the guards turned their back long enough that Cas could use all his strength to fly away. He was only grounded temporarily. His wings stretched and waited until the mind chose to fly. Dean told Cas that he was the demon. Cas was the angel waiting to fly while Dean was the demon trapped in hell. He couldn't run or fly away from his problems, he believed his family needed help. He was chained and bound to his family.

But Dean promised they'd get through it all. They'd get passed it. Everything would be alright. And sometimes Cas believed him, but.. only sometimes.

Senior year came. The last year of high school. Cas was thankful. By the time he graduated, he'd be eighteen and out of the house, heading towards college. He decided he wanted to go to an art school, major in drawing and minor in photography. His parents won't find out, he told them he was going to take a break between schools. For some reason, they were alright with that. Or they just didn't care enough, which is usually the case.

By the time graduation was only a few months away, Dean came to school more often with bruises.

“Dean, this is the fourth time this week..” Cas whispered to him during class.

Dean sighed and nodded his head, “I know I know. I'm trying harder to get my dad into rehab. He needs help, and I can't always be there. I don't really want to always be there.”

Cas stared at Dean's once beautiful green eyes. They seemed to lose color, they were glossed over and there were darker bags under his eyes. “Dean... if you need help. I always come when you call.”

The teacher shushed them and threatened to separate them if they kept talking. So they both went back to work, and it didn't come back up again. Instead, they read and drew the rest of the week away. Dean didn't come to school with new bruises for awhile.

In fact, the bruises and the few scratches healed completely. Dean's face was clean and Cas made sure to stare at it until it was scarred into his mind. Along with the images of rolling hills and vast rainforests that made up Dean's eyes.

But one week everything changed. Cas was starting to pack his things up, using all the bags and boxes he could find. Packing everything, so by the time he could move in, he was ready to go. He found an apartment last week, one that Dean approved on. It was close to the college Cas got accepted to, and it was close to the auto shop Dean applied to. Dean comforted Cas about it, saying that the shop included professional training. Not a thing to worry about. The only worry left, was Dean's father. He refused to go to rehab, and Cas knew he was still hurting Dean, just maybe in the places he couldn't quite see as well. Watching Dean coming to school every week with the same refusal he was given the week before killed Cas, and Dean wasn't asking for help either.

Cas was stacking all his books into boxes, taking care to reread each title and description before he put it in. Besides, he had time to be slow. He couldn't move in until graduation week anyway. But this time, Cas noticed a folded corner. Why would he fold the corner? He never did that. It was always memorize the page number or use a bookmark. His fingers flipped to the page, and he immediately recognized Dean's scribble.

Dean wrote in the book. But Cas didn't mind. It was almost Dean's confession every time he finished a book. Sometimes he talked about the characters and how he can relate. Other times, it was his own thoughts on falling in love with Cas. Each message ended with ' _Hallelujah_ '. Even if it was a message that wasn't happy. That wasn't flowers and sunshine. But rather demons and chains.

Cas's fingers rubbed over the pencil marks of the writing, and kept the page folded. He didn't just have the pictures of Dean now, he had that piece of him that showed Cas he really cared. That he would never leave him, and wasn't going to walk away. Dean would sacrifice himself if it meant Cas would live. Anytime. Every time. By the time Cas finished reading all of Dean's messages, from the first book to the last one he gave back, Cas realized something.

The speed at which Dean is willing to sacrifice himself scares Cas. Dean cares for him more than he cares for himself. Cas had to bring it up with Dean. Tomorrow. At school. He'd see Dean, and he could bring up his worry. He had to do it in person or Dean would just avoid the question as long as he could. At least in person Cas could force him to stay until he talks. Even if Dean doesn't want to.

Cas slept with the angel in his hands that night. Waiting until the next day came so he could show how much he cares for Dean.

When morning came, Cas had a bad feeling in his stomach. It had been so long since he had an anxiety attack that he brushed it off as a stomach bug. It won't stop him from getting to Dean.

His morning went by in such a blur that by the time he left the house, he couldn't remember what he ate for breakfast. Did he eat anything? What did he do after waking up? His fingers brushed his hair. He didn't shower this morning. His eyes looked down. New clothes, he changed. Fingers felt his face, around his chin. He didn't shave. Though, he vaguely remembers saying that he probably should. His feet found their footing well enough without Cas really paying attention. Before he knew it, he was at school. And whatever bug he had, was clenching his stomach and he could barely feel his legs and hands shaking. This is not going to be a good day.

What? Cas didn't want to think that. Why did he just think that? Today is going to be good. Right? Nothing's happened. It's almost eight fifteen. The day has barely started. Why wouldn't today be a good day? Was there something in the news? Did he see someone with a weapon? No.. he just got to school. He's been looking at the ground. The ground is detailed. Lots of rock. Was this pavement? What? What is he doing? Why is he thinking about pavement? Something bad is going to happen. No. Something bad can't happen. Did the bell ring? He didn't hear. People are moving. Feet are shuffling. Move. Move Cas. MOVE....

….. The bell rang an hour ago. He received the worksheet thirty minutes ago. Was this homework? Study guide. It was homework. The test is next week. He wasn't studying. He could fail. Wait. No. He can't fail. He finished all his requirements. He has all his credits. He'll still graduate. Good. He didn't have a pencil. Why didn't he have a pencil? There's a worksheet in front of him. The teacher is reading. Everyone is working. The worksheet. The worksheet Cas. Work on it. He knows the answers. But he has no pencil. Wait. Backpack. Pencils are in there. Right? Pencil found. Why is it not moving? It's in his hand. Is it.. shaking? He's shaking. He can't breath. What's wrong? Cas, what's wrong? Cas? Cas?! Cas!

… Dean.

He's not here. The bell will ring in five minutes. Where is he? Why isn't he here? Did something happen? Phone. No messages, no calls. Nothing. Worksheet is still blank. Why is it still blank? There's a crevice in this desk. Who did it? Did they have a knife? Why would they have a knife? Dean. Where is he? He's never this late. He wasn't seen this morning. How does he get here? Walking? No... he doesn't have a bike.. Car. The impala. Impala! Wasn't seen this morning. He didn't see it. What happened to Dean? Where is Dean? Dean? Did something happen? What could happen? What if he's hurt? What will he do? What can he do? Where is he? He should be here. Where-

“Castiel?”

Voice. Place it. Place it. The teacher. The teacher is talking. Focus. “Yes?” Cas finally focused. Everyone else was gone. The bell rang a few minutes ago. How long? Five. Five minutes.

“Are you okay?” The teacher asked. “You haven't moved all class.”

“I'm...” Cas looked at the blank worksheet, the pencil shook in his hand. “I don't know.. what's happening.” Castiel felt like throwing up everything from his stomach, and he was dizzy, the room was spinning. His hand shook visibly. He didn't even have to show it, someone could see from across the classroom.

“I called the nurse. She'll be here soon.” The teacher sat in the desk in front of Cas. “Do you want to talk?”

Cas laid his hands flat on the desk. “Where's Dean?”

The teacher sighed. “I put him down for a cut today. He may come in later, or he might call in sick. That's all I know.” The teacher tried to comfort Cas.

No illness. He never comes in this late. He never has. Why isn't he in? Why isn't he here? Abandoned. He abandoned Cas. It was a lie. It was a joke. Cas didn't deserve him anyway. Why would someone like Cas be lucky enough to get with someone like Dean? It was a lie. All of it. He's been left behind.

Bright lights, leather ish couch. Nurse. He was in the nurse's room. Laying down. When did he get here? How did he get here? He sat up. His backpack was on the floor. What time is it? The bell. The bell will ring in a minute. It was already three. How was it already three? It was just ten a moment ago.

“Cas?” The nurse. The nurse was talking.

Cas looked, open mouthed with no voice.

“Go home. Get some rest. Maybe, call in sick? You seemed to be totally out of it today. You might also want to see a doctor. You've been shaking all day. But, maybe it's just nerves.”

The bell rang. His feet found the floor, his hands found his backpack, and his head found the movement, nodding. He walked out.

Where could Dean be? Laughing behind the corner? Planning how he's going to ruin the next person he meets. Or when he's going to abandon them. Cas doesn't deserve Dean. Dean is too sweet. Too kind. Cas doesn't deserve people like him...

His room. It was dark. Time. It was eight. His parents will be home again. Should he stay awake long enough to hear them scold him? He didn't have a choice. He couldn't sleep. His fingers found the box and his eyes looked at the images. Polaroid images. Dean. His green eyes. The beautiful face he hasn't felt in so long. The one that left him. He promised. He promised he wouldn't. But now where is he? Gone.

Parents. They knew about Dean. Knew his relationship. Something about being disappointed. He was a disgrace to the family. He's not human. He's going to hell. He'll never find happiness. He'll suffer beatings for each one. Every heart broken, and soul sold. He's not their son anymore. He'll always be abandoned. Always be left to die alone. Always and forever.

It was a throbbing pain. Something was dripping down his arm. Both his arms. There was something soft in his hand. Something hard in the other. Something dark dripped on one of Dean's photos. Blood. His arms dripped. His strength gave out. Blood spread closer to him. It was dark. It was the darkness. The evil thing that's come to swallow him into death. The blade shined against the moonlight. His fingers grazed the angel wings. Part of it was dark. His blood. He dirtied it. It was bleeding.. just like him. How.. much longer?.. He felt hands. He was being moved. Shaken. No... it stopped. Darkness came. He didn't feel anymore. It was gone...

It was bliss.... forever and always.. no... always and forever... they said that... it was painless... pain free... nothing hurt... it was dark... no light shone through... not anymore... the rolling hills... the vast rainforests... it was gone... covered in darkness.... never to be seen again... he was... gone... it was over....

 

_Hallelujah...._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More coming. I promise.   
> the story is not over yet!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter four**

 

_All is lost.. always and forever.._

 

It was blurry. The light was blurry, and it was bright. Focus. Ceiling lights. Not his. The hospital.. he was at the hospital. Why was he at the hospital?..

He felt heavy bandaging on one arm, and moderate bandaging on the other. Right. That's why. The room had a really light blue tint to it, and the door was blueish-green. The tiles of the floor looked the same as the ones from school. His bed was in the middle of the back wall, and he had a table with chairs in the corner to his left. A window to his right, looking out over the creek and trees that went through town.

He tried to lift his arm, but he was weak and didn't get very far. He heard the handle of the door, and a moment later, a young women with bright red hair walked in.

“You're awake.” She grabbed a chair and sat next to him. “That's good.”

She had a bright smile, she was cheery. It was nice. Castiel only managed to nod slightly.

“Well. You're going to be weak for awhile. Do you remember what happened?” She had a clipboard, and Cas suspected she was taking notes.

Cas nodded. “Yes.” He managed to say.

“That's good too. Means you didn't cause too much damage. But you lost a lot of blood. You've been getting blood transfusions for a day now.”

“How long...” Cas cleared his throat. “was I out?”

The women sighed. “A couple days. We've had you here for the last 24 hours. Before that you were downtown at the hospital.”

Cas creased his forehead. “Where am I now?”

“An institution for the mentally unwell.”

Cas closed his eyes and sighed.

“But we're gonna get you better. You're doctors gave us the go ahead on keeping you here until we think you're better. There's one problem we have to clear up before we start treatment and therapy.”

Cas opened his eyes and looked at her. “What would that be?”

“Your parents. When medics arrived, it was clear that this had been an ongoing problem. We need to know if your parents were the cause. The school said you had one friend, and no reports of bullying. All your teachers and other students said that you weren't bullied at school.”

Cas took a deep breath. “It was my parents. From the beginning.”

The women nodded and wrote something down on the paper.

“I was moving out. Where is my stuff?”

The women looked up when she finished. “We moved it to a storage facility that was willing to wait until you were better and could pay. Police tried to track down this friend on yours, but.. the house was empty, and none of the contacts the school had was working. Your parents weren't allowed to take it until the investigation was finished. They won't be allowed to take it now either. And we can't contact your friend. When you leave here, we will give you your storage box keys and location. They will then give you six months to pay them back. Until then, you're going to be here. Getting better.”

Castiel nodded, trying everything to stop himself from crying. He didn't have that friend anymore, and now Dean ditched the town. Probably off to ruin someone else's life. His hand slowly came up and wiped his face, keeping the tears from falling.

The women stood. “Therapy will start tomorrow for you. My name is Charlie. I'll be in charge of your treatment. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Cas looked at her. “I have a sketchbook, with some drawings. It's my newest one, would I be able to get that?”

“I'll see what I can do. Anything else? Lunch will be arriving soon.”

“There's.. this angel. It's small, and...”

“The police have it in evidence. But I'll do what I can to get it for you. Does it mean as much as I think does?”

Castiel nodded. “Yes.”

Charlie nodded. “I'll do everything I can to get them. I'll see you tomorrow. Take it easy Castiel.” She left, the door creaking slightly before it closed shut.

Cas slowly sat up and hugged his knees. His blue eyes watched the wind blow outside. Was this really where he was meant to be? Was this the place that he was heading towards all along? What changed? What happened? Dean was always there. He never failed to be there for Cas since the day they met back in middle school. So why now? What happened? What really happened to him? And why was there no trace of him anymore?

He tried hard to remember the details of his last day. Getting up, getting dressed. He doesn't recall eating. Oh! He was going to shave. Cas felt his face. It was pretty long for his taste, and he didn't like it. He wondered if they would let him shave, or at least shave for him. Either way.

What did he do next? He walked to school. The trees, the creek, the bridge he crosses. Little hard to forget when he walks the path all year long. School. He doesn't remember really looking around the parking lot except for when he first arrived. The pavement was his focus. He was looking down the entire time. But he doesn't remember seeing Dean's impala. That's what set him off the most. Dean's car was missing, and Dean hadn't been late for the last month.

The door creaked open again and an orderly wearing all white came in with a tray of food.

“Excuse me..” Cas said, the orderly looked at him as they set down the tray of the table. “Could I get something to read?”

“A book?” The orderly asked. “Anything in particular?”

Cas thought. “I was reading 'A Game of Thrones' if you have it. George R.R. Martin.”

The orderly nodded. “I believe we have the set. I'll come back.”

“Thank you. If you could, just bring the whole set that would be amazing. I'm a fast reader.”

The orderly smiled. “Never stop reading. I'll go get it for you.” They left after when Cas thanked them again.

Cas looked at the food. A sandwich, some grapes, a cookie, and a paper cup with water. No forks or knives. And the tray was plastic. He slowly got off the bed, and stumbled, almost falling over, grabbing the bed for support. He was still weak. One deep breath and he sat down on the chair at the table. The food was alright. The cookie wasn't very good. It was hard and crunchy, didn't hold much flavor either. He left it with one bite in it, but finished off everything else before rolling himself back onto the bed.

The orderly came back with a box set of the 'Game of Thrones' series and set them on the table, taking back the tray. Cas eagerly grabbed the first book and flipped back to the page he remembered leaving off. And read the rest of the afternoon. Dinner came somewhere around sundown. It was a bowl of soup, with a few slices of oranges, and a paper cup of water. The soup was pretty tasteless as well, but he left it half finished, and ate the orange slices. By then the ceiling lights clicked on, and provided light for a few hours.

A knock on the door startled Cas, and the voice yelled through the door saying it was lights out. Cas sped up his reading slightly, and finished the book before the lights shut off. The moon provided enough that Cas was able to neatly put the book back into its box before laying down and pulling the blankets to his chin. He faced outside. It was nice. It reminded him of when he and Dean stayed out to talk. The first time. When they both gave away everything they were hiding.

Somehow Cas was able to fall asleep, after much tossing and turning. An orderly shook him awake the next morning. It was about nine, and breakfast was on the table for him. He was told that when he finished breakfast, he was to head to the main room. It was at the end of the hall.

Breakfast was some toast with butter, sliced apples, and cup of orange juice. At least the toast tasted like toast and wasn't burnt to a crisp. The orange juice tasted a little weird, but he drank it anyway and slowly walked to the main room.

The main room had big carpet in the corner, surrounded by soft chairs and couches. There were a few tables with chairs by the wall adjacent. One corner held shelves of books. It wasn't huge, and Cas could tell that he already read most of what they had. The other corner had a shelf of board games. They were clearly old, the cardboard torn on most sides, and duct tape holding some of them together. On the same wall as the door, there was a window that looked into an orderly office. Back there, Cas could see a wall of keys, and some other items that weren't meant for everyone. It was the same place he was going to get his meds once he was prescribed.

His blue eyes looked around at the people. Some sat on the floor or in chairs staring off into space. Others paced the room, mumbling to themselves. A few sat on the couches and read. And some others played board games with each other. Cas went to the bookshelf and looked at the titles.

Read that one. Read that one. Finished that one. Hmm. The few books they had that he hadn't already read, were books he wasn't interested in. Books suited for a much younger audience than he was used to. Easy reads. He wandered back to his room and grabbed the second book in the series before heading back. Sitting on one of the chairs and reading.

“Castiel Novak?” A female voice called. Charlie.

Cas looked up and saw her coming towards him.

“Hi. You're going into private therapy for your first session. Come with me.” She smiled.

Cas smiled slightly back, and followed her down the hall, carrying the book in his hands. She led him passed the main reception desk by the elevators and stairwell. Then gestured into a room, an office. He walked in, and sat down on the small couch against the wall. Charlie closed the door.

“Hello Castiel. My name's Michael. I'll be your therapist for your stay here.”

Cas nodded. “Okay.”

Michael got up from behind his desk, and sat on a chair across from Cas, with a clipboard. “So Castiel, why are you here? Do you remember?”

“Yes. I tried to commit suicide.” He said calmly.

“Right. Do you know why?”

“I was depressed. I would assume I've been depressed for some time.”

Michael nodded. “Do you remember anything else that happened that day? Maybe something that led you to it?”

Castiel thought a moment. “My friend didn't show up. I had an anxiety attack when the first period ended. My friend hadn't arrived. He hadn't been late all month. Something was telling me something bad happened.”

“Did something bad happen?”

“I don't know. I never saw him.”

“Do you remember what else you did that day? Give me the details.”

Castiel reflected. “I got up. Got dressed and left the house. No breakfast, no shower. I remember thinking I needed to shave. But I didn't do it. I walked to school and noticed my friend's car wasn't in the parking lot... I remember looking at the ground while I walked into school....” Michael listened and took notes. “I don't remember entering class.. I remember it had been an hour.. and my friend still wasn't there. I was suppose to be working on some homework for the test coming up...”

“Did you work on it at all?”

“No. I left it blank. Not even my name. I didn't have a pencil in my hand until there was only twenty minutes left of class. I don't remember anything until five minutes after the bell... When my teacher asked me if I was okay... I wasn't sure.. I'm not entirely sure if I answered him.. I remember thinking my answer... though I couldn't say if it was actually voiced. They called the nurse for me.. …”

“What happened after that?”

“I... don't... remember... I remember sitting up in the nurses office at three. I can't remember anything else in between... I went home though... I couldn't sleep... But... I vaguely remember my parents yelling at me about my relationship with my friend...”

“So you were more than friends with this boy?”

“Yes... My parents didn't like it... They yelled at me.. I'm not sure for how long... Next thing I remember is the feeling of pain... I held a knife in one hand... and that angel in the other... then everything went dark... No more pain... it was just... nothing... I woke up here a few days later...”

Michael nodded. “Alright. From here, I want you to go backward. Your parents are a clear sign of some sort of emotional damage. But lets see what we can knock off this list. Break it down to how you felt, and how you reacted. We want a diagnosis.”

Castiel nodded, and began to talk for the rest of the hour. They didn't finish, and Michael told him that he was going to have another schedule tomorrow to continue. Hopefully they'd come to some conclusion, and Cas can be put into group therapy.

So the next day, Cas talked to Michael again. A couple more days and Cas was prescribed anti-anxieties, and anti-depressants. Michael said that it's no cure, but it reduces symptoms. So he'll likely have them for the rest of his life. But Cas was okay with that.

He spent most his time reading. Charlie was able to get him his sketchbook and his angel came a few days after. They permitted him to draw in the main room, but not in his own. They wanted to watch him. But Cas could feel things improving as each day went by. The meds made him feel much better than he ever has before.

His sketchbook was mostly still lives and landscapes. He drew what he saw out the window, and the things he saw in the main room. Charlie told him that when he's released, he'll receive his diploma, since he wasn't able to make it to graduation.

A couple weeks later, they said he was permitted visitors. This made his stomach drop. His parents can't visit. But Dean can. He said to allow anyone. Dean might come by. What is he going to do? Dean vanished. That day, he drew Dean. Still remembering every curve and muscle of Dean's body. And Dean's eyes was the only thing he colored in his whole sketchbook.

Rolling hills and vast rainforests took over his life once more.

 

_Always and forever..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book mentioned does not belong to me. No credit intended.   
> Though yall should really read those books. Like now. 
> 
> Other than that,   
> More to come.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter five**

 

_I'll be alone... Always and forever..._

 

“Why are you scared Castiel? You've said that lately, the anxiety is harder to control.” Michael said.

Cas once again sat in his office, for a private session. Just a few days ago, he permitted anyone to visit him, and all he could think about was Dean. “I'm not sure what I would say if Dean came by. He... vanished. The police stated that his house was empty.. abandoned. And there was no record of him that the school could find. They told me, that because he wasn't family related, they can't look more into it. He could've moved. It isn't something they can look into.”

“So why Dean? Why are you afraid of Dean coming by, rather than someone else?”

“Dean made me feel special. He made me feel like I was somebody. Made me feel like I was the only person in the world. Dean loved me. He was always there for me, never failed to show up. He had his own problems. But he always put me first.... Then he suddenly vanished. He wouldn't answer his phone. I called, and it said the number was out of service. He made me feel like I was everything I could ever be... and then he just disappeared. I'm not entirely sure if I want to see him again. He left me.”

“Do you want him to explain why he left you?”

“Yes. I'm curious to know why he left. And what kept him away. But part of part me is angry at him. I gave him everything I was. And he just left.”

“So you feel betrayed?”

“Yes.” Cas looked down. “I suppose I do.”

Cas went back to the main room when the session was over. Michael gave him some slightly stronger anti-anxiety medication and said to use it when he was having panic attack only. Or about too. They were stronger, and he didn't want Cas to over-dose.

The couch sunk under his weight as Cas got out his sketchbook, and begin to draw what was outside. He's had a lot of time to draw, and he's noticed improvement. His portraits got more detailed and the shading of trees was much better now than it was at the beginning. He finished the 'Game of Thrones' series awhile ago, and was disappointed when he had read everything else. Often times he made requests for books, but they never came in. So Cas drew most the time, or chose a book he could reread. Each time, he'd fold the corner of the last page and run his fingers down the blank page at the back. Just like Dean did. The only thing missing was Dean's scrawl.

Cas missed it. He missed the rolling hills of Dean's eyes and the golden brown hair that shown in the sunlight. That old brown leather jacket he wore in the winter, Cas's arms being slightly to small for him. The flannels Dean always wore were always the first things that Cas slid his hands under when they laid on the couch. Cas missed wrapping his legs around Dean's bow-legged ones. His hands always slid around Cas's waist and held him, never wanting to let go. Never wanting to leave. Never wanting to give away that moment. Never..

“Castiel?”

A male's voice. It wasn't Michael's. Cas looked up toward the voice. He was tall, and his hair was half way down to his shoulders in waves. “Do I know you?” Cas said.

The man sat across from Cas on the opposite chair. “No. But I'm sure you heard of me. My brother said he's told me about you.”

Dean? Cas squinted his eyes at him in confusion.

The man sighed. “I'm Sam. Sam Winchester.”

Oh. Dean's little brother Sam. He always called him Sammy. “Yes.. He's mentioned you... How did you find me?..”

“Well... I heard about what happened from a few friends.. Your name sounded familiar.. So I did some research. Found out you've been here for quite some time.”

“Yes.. Well.. They said I can probably get released soon.. Why isn't Dean here?”

“He hasn't found you?”

“No. He hasn't.”

Sam sighed. “He left a couple days ago. He didn't say where he was going or why. I just assumed he was coming for you.”

“Oh... no... I haven't seen since...”

“I know... Dean said it was our father... Said our father dragged him out of town without any warning... No reason but... You know our father..”

“Right...”

“Well... He left again... Dean did... He took his impala and drove away... We finally got our dad into rehab though...”

“That's excellent news Sam. Dean always said he'd been trying for some time.”

“Yeah.. Well... Once our dad got in... Dean went down his own path... He mentioned you a couple of times... But never said what happened... The news makes it sound like you died... But here you are.. Recovering...”

“Yeah..”

“I've actually gotta go.. But...” He stood. “It was nice to finally meet you Castiel.” He held out his hand.

Cas shook it and nodded. “It was nice to finally meet you too Sam.”

“When you get out of here, keep in touch alright?” Sam gave him a slip of paper with a number on it. “It's the house phone. So Bobby might answer it. But he's a good guy, just ask for me.”

“Alright Sam. Thank you.”

“No problem.” Sam said before he walked away and left.

Cas stared at the numbers on the paper. He didn't know when he'd ever call, but it was nice that Sam offered. Or gave him the number. It made him feel a bit better. Though Dean was still missing. Gone. Where ever he went off to, Cas won't wait. Dean's gone.

The next week was final sessions and changes. Cas was given information about his stuff, and Michael helped him find an apartment in the next town over. He applied for some jobs near his apartment, and was given a rental car until he could afford his own. The hospital kindly payed the rental until further notice or Cas notified them he bought his own. He was told he'd have to return at least once a month for a year for outpatient care. They scheduled the first two on the weekend so he had all day to get here and back. When that was dealt with, his prescriptions were sent to the pharmacy he chose in the town, and he started packing up. He didn't have much. They gave him one box for his sketchbooks, and the gift of the 'Game of Thrones' series that Michael paid for. Some of the receptionists gave him flowers or other books he had requested but the hospital rejected them. Lastly, the angel was placed on top before the box was sent to the front desk.

His last day consisted of a lot of smiles. Even some of the other patients congratulated him. Michael was able to get him some new clothes. Since his last ones were in evidence at the police station, but also covered in blood. He got a small tray of brownies for lunch that day, his last meal here. The brownies were obviously home-cooked, they tasted a lot better than anything else cooked here. But he ate lunch and waited until an orderly came to escort him out. The window he drew so many times was bright with sunlight. It was becoming fall. Dean always liked fall. And so did Cas.

The door creaked open and the same orderly he's had since the beginning walked through. They gave him a flower and escorted him out to his car. With many goodbyes, he walked out of the hospital on his own. Scars may have formed on his arms, but he was happy to be leaving.

The car was standard, and he was given the key to the storage unit with his things. He said his final goodbye to the orderly, and drove away. Down the road, he drove a little over the speed limit, but he loved every bit of it. He stopped by the storage facility and picked up all his stuff. His smell was still on them. He packed the boxes of books in the back, his clothes in the trunk, and everything else in the trunk as well. There was new furniture at his apartment, so he sold out the unit same day.

Finally driving down the mostly empty highway towards his new home. His smile was wider than it's been in forever, and the wind brushed through his hair. Blue eyes matched blue sky, and they set forth toward his new future.

 

_It's a brand new day. The sun is shining on me. And the day is new. The future awaits._

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter six**

 

_Hallelujah.._

 

It had been a month since he left the hospital. He was settled nicely into his apartment, and his library was growing by the day. He worked at a stop n' go on the outskirts of town for a couple days a week, and then worked at a bookstore for the rest of them except for Saturday. It was nice to have Saturdays off. Work wasn't stressful or anything, and he wasn't studying anything yet, so Saturday was the day he usually cooked or read.

The only thing that kept him back a bit, was the stuff that reminded him of Dean. His camera hadn't held film for months, and the angel was collecting dust, both on a table in the corner of Cas's living room. Along with the box of pictures of Dean Cas had. Every once in awhile, Cas would look through them. Remembering Dean's face like he had it under his hands.

But Dean was gone. Cas had called Sam once since he got out. Bobby answered and he talked to him for awhile before being handed off to Sam. Sam said Dean still hadn't returned, and that he dropped his number, with no other contact. He also said that they were thinking about filing a missing persons report. No one they knew had seen him, and all the other places they went to hadn't seen him either. They were getting worried. The only reason they hadn't filed one already was because Dean said he'd be back. And they had contact with him for awhile. Dean dropped the number in the last two weeks. Sam felt as if Dean was only getting into trouble where ever he is. And they needed to get him back before something truly terrible happened.

Cas worried for Dean, and part of him hoped he'd return alright, for Sam. Some of Cas still wanted to beat the shit out of Dean for what he did. But for the most part, he missed Dean. He wanted to hold and kiss him again. He wanted to feel Dean beneath his fingers and hold him there forever. But Dean was gone. As Cas kept reminding himself. He's gone.

Recently Cas had been looking at online schools, and trying to decide on his major again. He wasn't sure if he wanted to go into photography anymore. Part of him wanted drawing. The part of him that remembered his parents told him to pick something else like language, or business. Something his parents told him would make him successful. But Dean's voice overrode theirs, and told him to pick what he wanted. He still struggled with it, and often talked to Michael about it.

They decided that Cas just had to follow his heart. Cas set some money aside, and slowly began taking his general education college classes. Soon followed by photography major classes he would need. And his drawing minor classes.

For once in a long time, he felt like his future was in order. He had two jobs that didn't stress him, and he was enrolled in his online classes. He was excited to be able to begin his career in photography. If only he could afford the latest camera. He got a basic one, and mostly used that. His Polaroid still sat on the table untouched, and he couldn't decide if he wanted to get film for it or not.

It was sundown by now, and the soft glow of the sun setting broke through the glass of the front of the building. He was at the stop n' go. Cas sat behind the counter and read a book, waiting to hear the door jingle for someone coming in. It doesn't ring often, most people who come by only get gas, and then head back out. His fingers absently flicked the light on for the store when there wasn't enough light.

A few moment later, he heard the same jingle of the door opening, a customer is here. Cas quickly looked up and saw their shadow walk around the aisle. He heard them rummaging through the magazines and snacks. After awhile it stopped. Cas could tell they hadn't picked anything up. Just looking maybe?

A few more minutes went by and he hadn't heard a thing. Cas set down his book behind the counter and walked around it. Seeing if the customer was alright.

He turned the corner... and froze.

The man looked up... his eyes... “Cas?..” Rolling hills and vast rainforests... “I can't believe... it's you...”

Cas opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out. Stunned silence.

Dean rubbed his face and ran his fingers through his hair. “I never thought I'd see you again... Oh man Cas... I thought... I was convinced...”

“You left...” Cas found himself saying. “You just walked away...”

Dean looked down, ashamed. “My dad dragged me away... He found out about us and didn't like it... By the time I got to Bobby's place... I had heard... that.. you... well.... I … I thought you died Cas.” Tears welled up in his eyes, Cas was sure he was doing the same. “Every piece of news I saw said that you were dying... Then it stopped... and... I thought you died Cas... I thought you had really done it...”

Cas looked down and away. “Why'd you leave Sam?”

Dean stepped back, “I needed to get away... I was sure... you were dead and I couldn't.... I felt like I had nothing... There was nothing left for me Cas.. I had nothing left... Sam... I said I'd be back... the only reason I'm not gone is because of Sam... I knew I couldn't leave him...”

Cas looked back at him, and walked towards him. Dean always stayed a step away until he ran into the wall. Dean looked down at their feet. “You dropped contact from Sam. You never came back to our town. Even if I had died, no returning at all?” Cas had sternness in his voice.

Dean, sounded weak. “I... I got into a fight... I've... I've made some enemies... Cas... I was sure if I returned... I'd follow in your footsteps... Because then all I'd be able to think about was you.... and you were gone... I... I loved you Cas... and I thought you were dead... Going back there was the last thing I wanted to do... You're my whole life Cas... Every picture I have of you, I still have. I carry them with me everywhere... Every drawing I ever did with you.. I still have... I treasure those things... I... Some guy actually tried to steal them... I don't know why... I had pissed him off.. But he tried to take it... I nearly beat the guy to death... He was in the hospital for weeks... I spent a few nights in jail because of it...” Dean sighed, and stared down at his feet. “I still love you Cas... And you have every right to be mad at me... But... Can you... give me another chance?”

Cas stared at him. At the parts of his face he could see, and every little hair that wasn't in a proper place for a couple minutes. He loved Dean. There was no denying it. No hiding it. He loved Dean, and he wanted him back in his life. His hand came up to Dean's chin and lifted his face up far enough for Cas to meet his lips.

Dean immediately fell into flow, and slid his hands around Cas's waist, holding him tight. Cas's hands ran down Dean's muscles as they bit at each other's lips. One hand held onto Dean's shirt, while the other ran through his hair and felt every muscle Cas reminisced about. Every little curve that Cas forgot about. He had to rediscover him, rediscover every indent and every mountain that Dean had.

Cas found one of Dean's hands and held it, tangling their fingers. He felt some new bumps when his fingers grazed Dean's knuckles. He separated and looked down at Dean's hand, pulling the other into view. Dean rested his head against Cas's.

“How many fights did you get into Dean?” Cas asked worriedly.

“More than I care to admit. More than I can count... I've... I've done some stuff Cas...”

Cas sighed, and looked back into Dean's eyes. “Well... I close in an hour... Stay with me?..”

Dean smiled a little, “Absolutely.. Do you have a place?”

“I do... you can follow me.”

Dean nodded, “Okay...”

“First..” Cas held Dean's face. “You have to call your brother. They're worried about you. Tell them you're okay, and that you're with me.”

Dean sighed, “Okay. I will. Can I use your phone?”

Cas handed him his cell, and went back to the counter after giving Dean another kiss.

Dean called his brother, knowing the number by heart, and let him know the current situation. Sam was about to officially file a missing persons before Dean called.

When Cas's shift was over and he shut down the store, Dean followed close behind in his impala to Cas's apartment. They parked next to each other in the lot, and Cas dragged Dean up to the top floor where Cas lived.

When they stepped through the door, Dean shut it behind him and pushed Cas up against the wall. Meeting his lips with fiery passion. Cas smiled into the kiss, allowing Dean's tongue to push past and discover. Dean's hands slipped half way under Cas's shirt and held onto his hips. Cas's hands ruffled Dean's hair, and slipped under his shirt. His fingers felt another bump, and he separated them.

“You have scars...” Cas whispered worriedly, looking at Dean.

Dean's hands remained where they were, “We've all got scars...”

“These are new...” Cas whispered.

Dean just sighed, and looked away. Cas took his hand and led him to the bedroom, laying him down on his back. The light was on, and Cas sat on Dean's lap, taking off his jacket. When Dean's jacket lay on the floor, Cas lifted up his t-shirt, revealing Dean's chest.

“Dean...” His fingers caressed over the new scars, some in the late stages of healing. “What happened? What did you do?”

Dean propped up on his elbows and looked at Cas. “Well... I got into a lot of fights... I was angry Cas... My angel was gone...”

“How exactly did all these happen? One by one..”

Dean rested back, one hand behind his head, and the other wrapped around Cas's hand. He moved Cas's hand to a scar right by his heart, and Cas's fingers climbed up and over it. “This was the first one... well.. sort of... The first one since I skipped out on Sammy... I got drunk from a bar that didn't card me.. and got into a fight with this asshole who was smoking outside... I don't entirely remember what happened... But next thing I knew I was on the ground and the guy had a knife on me... He tried to kill me... He was pissed off about something I said to him... Though I don't remember what I said... I passed out when he punched me in the face, and then I woke up in the hospital.. being told the guy stabbed me... they said he was making sure I was dead... Never saw him again.”

Cas leaned down and kissed it. Dean's hands moved to another, on the opposite side lower down on his ribs. It clearly wasn't a knife wound. “I was trying to get my hands on something good.. Some drugs... or alcohol... which ever came up first... Without going into too much detail... Messed with the wrong guy and he pulled a gun on me... Wasn't able to do much before he shot me to the ground... Somehow managed to get to a hospital...”

Cas's fingers rubbed over the ragged skin, and gave it a kiss. Dean moved his hand down to one on his left hip. “Another drunk night... another drunk fight... Beat the other guy to a pulp... but not before he stabbed me a few times...”

Again, Cas's fingers rubbed over each one, there were several of them gathered, and he kissed each one. Dean's hand led to one on his right shoulder. “This was my father... He was drunk off his ass and trying to drag me out of town... He had a knife... Never noticed that he took it out of the kitchen.. But when I tried to get away... he dug a knife into my shoulder and left it there... He strapped it to a seat belt in the car... Didn't have the strength to pull it out and run... Knew it wasn't a good idea either... When we got to Bobby's, Bobby dragged my father to rehab and me to a hospital... By the time they released me I had read that you died... or were dying..”

Once more, Cas's fingers grazed over the scar and kissed it. Dean's hands didn't move anywhere else from there. That was it.

“What about you're knuckles?” Cas's fingers rubbed at Dean's fingers.

“Fighting. I had more than two.. just didn't get any scars from most of them... Punched a lot of people and punched a motel mirror once or twice...”

Cas looked down at Dean's hands, and kissed them. When Cas finished, Dean's thumbs rubbed the inside of Cas's jacket. His fingers rubbing over the scars Cas left behind.

“What happened to you?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed and took off his jacket, revealing his own scars to the light. Dean's eyes and fingers rubbed over each one.

“After I tried.. to kill myself... I woke up in the hospital.. Bandaged and still alive... I didn't see my own damage until awhile after. I never wanted to look when they changed the bandaging.. When they took them off for good, they said the scars won't change much... they're not going to look any better than this... I spent weeks in the hospital... was eventually prescribed anti-anxiety and anti-depressant meds... felt a lot better... and now only getting better...” Cas leaned down and kissed Dean. “Your brother actually came by once.. after you had run off... he offered me a number to call... and he was worried about you... he thought you came back to town.. looking for me.. I actually tried to get over you... Never worked... I loved you too much...” Cas smiled.

Dean smiled back and brought cas's face down for another kiss. “One question..” Dean said.

Cas looked at him. “Hm?”

“Do you remember the lyrics?”

Cas smiled and let Dean grab the guitar Cas still had, it'd been sitting in his closet for awhile. Dean tuned it really quick, and Cas laid down, blue eyes watching him.

Dean strummed for a bit, before singing the familiar lyrics,

 

 _“Well, I heard there was a secret chord_  
That David played and it pleased the Lord  
But you don't really care for music, do you?  
Well it goes like this:  
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift  
The baffled king composing Hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...  
  
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof  
You saw her bathing on the roof  
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya  
She tied you to her kitchen chair  
She broke your throne and she cut your hair  
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...  
  
Baby, I've been here before  
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)  
I used to live alone before I knew ya  
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch  
And love is not a victory march  
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah  
  
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.”

 

Cas sang along to everything he knew, and when Dean finished, he dragged him back to the bed. Rolling on top of him and pushing his tongue past Dean's lips. Dean's hands helped Cas undress, and Cas's did the same, until they had nothing left to remove.

 

The night grew darker, and the stars were bright against the dark sky. All over again, it was rolling hills and vast rainforests, waving oceans and open skies. It was endless.

 

_Hallelujah.... Always and forever..._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song 'Hallelujah' is written by Leonard Cohen, but I'm referencing the one Jeff Buckley sang. 
> 
> There is more to come!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter everyone!  
> It's short to sum things up. Final moments and everything.   
> As always,  
> Characters do not belong to me,  
> and I was inspired by Jeff Buckeley's version of Hallelujah. Go find it. Listen to it. 
> 
> Other than that,   
> Thanks for reading!

**Chapter seven**

 

_I never want this moment to end... Everything is great..._

 

Dean woke up first. His arms wrapped around Cas's waist like he was going to fall off a cliff. Green eyes squinted at the morning light, and looked at Cas. He was still sound asleep. Dean saw his scars more clearly than last night. They weren't hideous, or ugly... they were perfect. Beautiful. Just like everything else about Cas.

He slowly slid his arms away and stood up by the bedside. He found his boxers, slipping them on, and quietly rummaged through Cas's drawers until finding two pairs of pajama pants, slipping one of them on. His ass ached from the movement, but he walked out the room without wincing. Slowly, found his way to the kitchen and looked around. The clock read nine, and Dean roamed the cabinets until finding something he could make breakfast with. He smiled at the pack of bacon, and grabbed the bisquick from the cabinet.

Dean found the tools and ingredients he needed slowly but surely, flicking the stove on, and began to whip up some pancakes. His eyes found the coffee machine tucked in the corner, and began to make some coffee, grabbing two mugs. He placed one plate by the stove, and slowly poured the pancakes, letting them rest on the heat a minute.

He got a small stack going when he felt arms slip around his waist, and lips lazily kissing his neck.

“Mornin..” Cas said sleepily, watching Dean make pancakes.

“Morning Cas.” Dean smiled, and set the bacon down on a pan to cook.

“I see you made yourself at home.” Cas smiled.

“Yeah. Figured I could make you breakfast since you weren't up yet.” Dean flipped the final few pancakes onto the plate, and turned around in Cas's arms.

Cas nuzzled into his neck. “How are you?” He mumbled.

Dean laughed a bit. “Well my ass aches a bit, but other than that this couldn't be better.”

Cas laughed into his chest, and lifted his head to meet Dean's lips in a lazy morning kiss.

The bacon sizzled, forcing Dean to turn back around before it burned. Tongs grabbed the bacon and placed them on the plate, next to the pancakes. “How do you take em honey?” Dean asked.

“Syrup. Always.” Cas responded, still holding onto Dean.

Dean reached for the syrup he found earlier, and poured a good amount onto the stack. “How about your coffee?”

Cas hummed. “Sugar. Splash of cream.”

Dean smiled, and gave him a kiss. Cas let go of Dean and took the pancakes to the table while Dean got the coffee. Cas grabbed two forks and the bottle of syrup, in case they run out. Dean grabbed the two mugs, his own black, while Cas's was as requested. They sat down at the table, tangling their feet together and enjoying breakfast.

After breakfast, they camped out on the couch with the TV playing some random movie about an upcoming hero. They laid on each other and spent most of their time making out.

“I have a question Dean.” Cas breathed out.

“Hmm?” Dean spoke into Cas's neck.

“Is there more to that song?”

Dean looked at him, and smiled. “For you.. Always.”

Cas grinned as Dean got up to fetch the guitar, and Cas sat up, crossing his legs. Dean sat across from him, and began to strum the familiar tune. They couldn't help but think about everything that's happened. It seems so long ago.. it seems forever ago. But they were here now.

“ _Well, I heard there was a secret chord_ _  
_ _That David played and it pleased the Lord_ _  
_ _But you don't really care for music, do you?_ _  
_ _Well it goes like this:_ _  
_ _The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift_ _  
_ _The baffled king composing Hallelujah_ _  
  
_ _Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ _  
  
_ _Well your faith was strong but you needed proof_ _  
_ _You saw her bathing on the roof_ _  
_ _Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya_ _  
_ _She tied you to her kitchen chair_ _  
_ _She broke your throne and she cut your hair_ _  
_ _And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah_ _  
  
_ _Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ _  
  
_ _Baby, I've been here before_ _  
_ _I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)_ _  
_ _I used to live alone before I knew ya_ _  
_ _And I've seen your flag on the marble arch_ _  
_ _And love is not a victory march_ _  
_ _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_ _  
  
_ _Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ _  
  
_ _There was a time when you let me know_ _  
_ _What's really going on below_ _  
_ _But now you never show that to me, do ya?_ _  
_ _But remember when I moved in you_ _  
_ _And the holy dove was moving too_ _  
_ _And every breath we drew was Hallelujah_ _  
  
_ _Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah..._ _  
  
_ _Maybe there's a God above_ _  
_ _But all I've ever learned from love_ _  
_ _Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya_ _  
_ _And it's not a cry that you hear at night_ _  
_ _It's not somebody who's seen the light_ _  
_ _It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah_ _  
  
_ _Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..._ _  
_ _Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah..._ _  
_ _Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah_ _  
_ _Hallelujah, hallelujah”_

 

Dean sang it everyday Cas was upset. And Cas hummed it to Dean whenever he needed it. They made a living.

They grew old together. Always holding hands and whispering the lyrics. Down to the last moment they could. When they were both in the hospital, given only forty-eight hours left. Their hands still tangled together, both mouthing the words to the song that got them through life. Dean passed first. Cas only smiled, still going until his last breath.

“ _Hallelujah.... Hallelujah..... hallelujah.... Hall..elujah... Hal..lel..u..jah...”_

 

_**Always and Forever, Hallelujah.** _

 


End file.
